


My Shepard

by candycandy (telltail_heart)



Series: The Worst Series [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charles is Erik's stalker, Crack, Dark Comedy, Erik is crazy, Foul Language, Gen, M/M, Paul Giamatti is used as a fictional character, celebrity stalker relationship, charles is in love with Erik, crack comedy, from stalker to friend, he has a six pack, just go with it, of course, oh my, to assistant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telltail_heart/pseuds/candycandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Erik (TV actor extraordinaire, who plays a sexy topless Shepard on the popular Christian drama, Genesis) fires his manager for not getting him a raise, he gets Charles to be his assistant, who's his stalker and his biggest fan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Shepard

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with my friend @bexfourtwenty-blog (the tumblrz) and the idea came from the Netflix, Rob Schneider show, Real Rob.  
> So in it he gets his stalker to drive him around, and go to meetings with him because well, it’s Rob Schneider’s show.  
> No more explanation needed.  
> I wanted to cherik it, so instead of using my own brain (looks like quivering jello) I got my friend to tell me what to write for everything lol. So this is what happened. 
> 
> (note: probably funnest, most refreshing writing challenge/exercise I’ve done. I’d suggest trying this out :) and I might just try this again, and add more to this story, cause it’s a funny one) 
> 
> And the authors don't share the options of the characters, they are just cracked out people...

**Rated C for Crack**

 

** **

 

 

He couldn’t believe the greed and the corruption of Hollywood— the ignorance. After working for years, giving every ounce of his artistic skill to PBS, they couldn’t even have the common decency to pay him the salary he deserves. Well, he wasn’t just going to stand by while they spit on his name—

“…yeah he actually told me to take the deal— I know a complete joke! I’m Shepard Simon! I’m the only reason those lonely house wives tune into Genesis every week. What fucking Shepard doesn’t wear a shirt and has a six pack? None— only me!” Erik sputtered, and his Mother on the end of the call, sighed.

“Maybe you have someone who can help you with this honey… Someone else in the movie business, like a friend? You can talk to?” She ended tactfully, and Erik stalled. That wasn’t too bad of an idea… yet Erik dismissed it knowing he was wasting his time. No one was going to step up in his defense. All of his old business friends and contacts, he’d either fired or pissed off, and his normal friends had moved on when he— as they put it, ‘sold out for money’ by taking the leading role on the largest grossing Christian cross over show of all time when he wasn’t religious, and hated everything religion stood for. But, like that mattered!

Erik had the last laugh though. He finally achieved the success he’d envisioned when he was first starting out in Hollywood— and as Erik’s bank account grew so did his lack of patience for ignorance. He dropped the dead weight of his past friend, and chose to make better use of his time by focusing on his interests, which he could pursue while at home, and that suited him. After the third year on Genesis, Mother suggested that he invest in a growing industry, and against the objections of his accountants, he invested in the burgeoning organic foods market. At the time no one guessed the western world would mutate into some hippie hybrid society, where people would be willing to pay exorbitant costs for so called, ‘health food’. Yet Erik hadn’t foreseen he’d become a colossal success either, but he just chalked it up like everything else in his life: to his genius. 

People like him (rich, talented, exceptionally attractive, oh and smarter then everyone around them) can see opportunity where others can’t, and also know how to capitalize on their success, and in Erik’s case, that was his role on Genesis.

Being on wholesome Christian show, his fan base is house wives, or the older demographic (usually religious) who he came to learn, have an excess income. They use this money to purchase expensive ingredients for their home cooking, or for their hired cooks to use in prepared meals, or on products their favorite TV star's release. 

This conclusion of course was based off all his accumulated data, and was the sole reason why he’d launched _Shepard_ — and it had been a risk worth taking. Erik has been stocking the organic produce section of Whole Foods and other organic chains for years, and just launched a line of canned tomato sauces, which were already bringing him in more profit then he anticipated. He was already planning a line of soups, which would be just as profitable he presumed because his fans love him, and Erik made sure to remind them of his greatness every chance he could get.

Erik attended popular farmers market on Sundays… conveniently located in the more wealthy areas of L.A. While there he would boast the advantages of organic, and mingle with his fans, and act like a ‘caring person’. And sure, he’d hug people when he hates touching, and also sign autographs, but it was all a part of the job.         _Deception comes easily when you’re an actor_ … It’s how he’s able to make it through most things he does in his daily life without killing someone. So what if he hates organic products, and religion, and his fans… and his (so called) co-actors. It’s normal to hate everything… well for him, but this apparently wasn’t normal, and made him a terrible person according to his manager who he’d fired today: Paul Giamatti.

Yeah Giamatti… the hack! He knew nothing about managing, and Erik had only taken him on because he’d failed in the music industry. He didn’t know why at the time he thought this was going to be a good idea after what happened with Eazy-E, and Brian Wilson… But if anything, Erik thought he would be a firm negotiator. Turned out he was wrong.

_…If the cast of Friends were making a mill an episode in 2000 who-gives-a-fuck, then why shouldn’t I make 1.5 in 2016? The rest of my cast might make an 8 th of that per episode cause they don’t matter… I only matter._

There was a phrase that Erik always maintained in his life: _you have to step on people to get ahead_ , and that lifestyle suited him. This is how he justifies his life decisions.

There was a call on the other line, and he decided to let his mom off the hook. He knows how much she hates work talk. “Okay Mom, I’ll find someone to talk to— there’s someone else on the other line, bye, love you.” He hung up on her and answered the new call. 

“Ya, who is this?” he demanded as he walked the steps to his Beverly Hills home— and it was Giamatti… _Who else? Probably trying to grovel his way back in…_

“Erik, you can’t demand that much money— it doesn’t matter if you’re the star. Genesis isn’t Friends, and they aren’t going to pay you that much.” His whiny voice blithered, and Erik couldn’t believe his gall.

Snapping the phone from his ear, he held it out in front of him and screamed as his mind sparred with indignation— “I’m not just like Friends! I am Friends! I’m all six of them combined— so I deserve everything!” He roared into the phone, and then smashed it against the ground as he saw nothing but red across his vision.

Giamatti was dead to him.

 _Friends, who needs friends,_ he thought as he stalked up to his door, and that’s when he noticed Charles crouching in the bushes. He had his thermos and his note pad, and was peaking up at Erik fretfully.

Guilt struck him, and he guessed he probably scared the little freak, and that’s when it came to him– like a freak storm of frogs falling from the sky! Charles, his full time stalker, and biggest friend— fan! Fan- could help him! Who else was dedicated enough to his life to understand that he deserved all the recommendation the world could spare? Only his stalker that’s who!

“Charles!” Erik snapped, and his short stature rose from his pineapple bushes.

He grinned impishly as he smoothed down his wild hair, and pushed his glasses up his nose, “Yes Erik, is something wrong? You broke your phone… are you going to get a new number now, cause last time it was a month before I found out you changed it, and it just really bothered me, cause I couldn’t call you in the middle of the night and,” He was droning on and Erik snapped his fingers, not caring about his weird late night calls. Sure if he was up he would answer, and sometimes he couldn’t sleep and his heavy breathing would lull him back into sleep, but for the most part he missed them, and his answering machine would be full of mouth breathing in the morning.

“Shut up and listen to me— I’m not changing my number,” Erik blurted and Charles sighed, visibly relaxing, “I need your help. You’re going to be my assistant. I fired Giamatti: he was an idiot, can you believe that he wouldn’t negotiate for me to get 1.5 every episode? Fucking idiot!” Erik spat and walked towards his door, and unlocked it, and when he turned to order Charles in, he was taking Erik’s hand while boasting a strained, yet wide-eyed stare. Kinda like a dog looking a plate of food they weren’t allowed to eat.

“Really Erik, you really want my help?” His voice shook as he crouched and went to kiss his hand, and he sneered shaking him off.

“Stop that! Yes, I want your help. You helped with my computer, and my cable, why wouldn’t I get your help? Who else knows more about me?” He threw out there as he walked into his house, and motioned for Charles to come in, who was smiling manically from his door mat.

“No one…” He whispered with dreamy eyes, and then stuttered excitedly. “I—I h— have the blog right— you saw Erik? Did you see my post last week about your abs, that they got more defined? I heard you say it through your’ bedroom window, and you’re right you know. I saw them.” Charles told him earnestly, and Erik nodded in agreement while looking at the little creep. He was right after all, and completely harmless and… Erik was too full of himself to want to lose an asset like Charles, so he put up with a lot of shit from him that no one else could even begin to try while in his presence.

“You know I don’t care about your blog, but keep it up. It spreads the word about how important I am— Did you put anything on there about my new sauce?”

Charles looked affronted as he walked through the door, “Did I write about your sauce? I sampled them all, and did a review individually for every flavour… They’re all perfect, like you Erik…” He whispered again, fluctuating from normal speech to his eerie whispers, and Erik nodded in approval.

“Good, keep that up, and take off your shoes. They’re all dirty from hiding in bushes like a freak. What happened to your car?” He snapped, looking to the road for Charles’ beat up wood paneled station wagon, and Charles sighed as he started toeing off his brown loafers. They went with his blues khakis and sweater vests combos he always wore, and Erik noted that he was already dressed like an assistant, so that was perfect.

“Oh you know. It got impounded. I think your neighbour called the police, and they took the wagon away and I was fined for loitering.” Charles told him, and then dashed out the door, and Erik was left scowling at the thought that some called the cops on Charles. He needed somewhere to sit when it got shitty out. Hell his Mom even made him a sweater for the evenings, because she didn’t get that Charles wasn’t actually his landscaper, but he didn’t blame her for the confusion. Charles was always in the bushes when she came over, and his mother was generally good hearted, and _incredibly naive_.

He came in with his thermos, which his mother had gifted him as well, and his satchel that had who knows what inside.

Erik slammed the door behind Charles, and stalked into the living room as he yelled behind him, “We’ll get your car back. I’ll pay your impound bill, and maybe get you a new car. Yours is a piece of shit! Even if you like it, it’s an embarrassment Charles.” He said as he turned on the TV and switched it to Entertainment Tonight, to see if his story was being leeched through the trash news channels.

“No… no Erik, you don’t have to get me a car. I like mine as you said. It’s good for what I do, you know… there’s lots of room for me to sprawl when I follow you to the farmers market, or your shoots. But… if you want to pay to get it out that would be wonderful…” He breathed, and Erik looked over to see Charles standing beside him, and leaning towards his shoulder and smelling him he guessed. Erik sighed in annoyance— he was trying to have a conversation here, not a flower smelling contest!

“Pay attention to me when I talk to you Charles. So tell me what do you think about my deal? They’re fucking assholes right?” Erik threw his hand up when Entertainment switched to a story about the Kardashians, “You see this shit…” He mumbled as Charles was talking in his excitable British tone, that Erik had always found to be enthusiastic enough to not piss him off. That’s what he likes about Charles, he has gumption. He wasn’t out to murder Erik, _no_ , just cheer him on… while doing weird stalker shit. But sometimes you have to take the good with the bad… some people say.

“No I can’t— they are so predictable and well, a bunch of dogs. I don’t see the appeal, not like you… Erik? May I smell your shirt later, or I know– have a shirt as payment?” He gazed hopefully at Erik, and he snorted thinking that wasn’t enough.

“Don’t you want money? If you’re going to work for me, I can put you on my payroll.” He said rationally, but Charles jerked his head like it was an insult.

“I don’t want your money Erik, I get enough from my inheritance. No what I want is…” he twiddled his fingers on his lips, while looking like he was going to burst from joy, “clothing—pre-worn, oh and your lint, and, and some hair, and maybe… can I watch you sleep, just for a tiny bit.” He held an inch between his pointer finger and thumb, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you won’t have to pay me.” He whispered as he covered his mouth with his fingers fully and Erik rolled his eyes. He didn’t bother pointing out that Charles already watched him sleep. He’d woken up to see Charles reading out his window on a few occasions, while sitting at his picnic table no less— and much to Erik’s disgust he hadn’t even been paying attention! He didn’t see the point of letting Charles watch him sleep if he was going to read the whole time, but if that’s what he wanted…

“Yeah whatever knock yourself out, but I think you’d want the money to buy better clothes. I like your style, but your shirt is threadbare and not even a name brand. What are you wearing? Wait, it doesn’t matter right now— tell me what you think about my deal or you’re fired.” He threatened, and sunk onto the seat, sliding off of the arm rest where he had perched. He tapped his tablet; bringing up his stocks, and Charles edged beside him slowly and sat down, like he was ready to run away and hide in some nearby bushes at the slightest movement.

“I agree Erik that you’re the entire cast of Friends in one flawless human being, but you’re never gonna get that much out of Genesis right now. Maybe in 2 years. You need to prove your worth, and Genesis has only been on the air for six years, and that— ha, that’s a lot, don’t get me wrong— I mean when I saw you 5 years ago and quit my life in England to move here, to be with you… I knew that you’d be big. But Friends size money, you need at least 8 years under your… skin…” Charles mumbled as he crept his hand across the couch and stopped with his fingertips touching Erik’s leg, and he glanced blandly at the maneuver.  _Anything to cop a feel, the little creep,_ he thought and sighed as defeat was setting in.

“See this is why I need you as my assistant. If Giamatti reasoned like you, he’d still have a job, and you’d still be in the bushes.”

Erik tapped his chin as his mind turned to business, “Hmm so I have to wait… What can I do in the meantime to up my popularity?” He mostly asked himself as he rubbed his chin, and then he looked at Charles waiting for an answer. Charles was his assistant after all, yet he didn’t appear to be paying attention and was just, dreamily watching him.

“Come on, focus— I gotta up my worth— you said it.” Erik grunted, and Charles snapped out of his fog. 

Grinning largely, he jumped in excitement, which made Erik uncustomary grin in pleasure. “I know! You can bulk up! You know get even bigger: beef up, juice— wait no, that’s bad for you, you gotta keep it natural Erik, that’s the trend. You’re lean, and…” Charles gasped reverently, “perfect in every way, but if you gain more muscle, you’ll be godlike… And I could… rub oils all over you like you’re a gladiator…” Charles panted beside him, but Erik was staring at the TV as Christ Hemsworth was posing for a shoot with kittens, and it all came to him, like a pyramid finally being unveiled after decades of construction. 

That’s how he viewed his achievements: as timeless masterpieces.

“Yes, you’re a genius Charles— I’ll gain more muscle, and I’ll do a magazine— Men’s Health, that’s it! They’ll want to do a spread, and I can campaign maybe against some cause, like kitten cruelty…” Erik mumbled, trying to think of the most pathetic victim to fight for.

“What about Canadian seal hunts? Killing baby seals, what is worse then that right? I mean— Ha, ha, really— killing baby seals, that’s like veil times a thousand.” He spat sardonically, and it was a moment of eureka for Erik. His stalker was more than a genius, he was— just like Erik, and he’d never thought that about anyone.

Erik slapped him on the back, and crowed with joy, “Ha, that’s it! Baby fucking seals. Who wouldn’t care about that— apart from me?” He added as Charles was regaining his posture, from Erik’s strength. His bruit force that he could deliver in one expression of joy. _God I am amazing…_

“I don’t either, but I don’t care about much apart from you obviously, I mean,” Charles started to laugh manically, “I mean, who cares about half of the campaigns out there, and organic—” he was hitching out his laughter, and Erik joined in, chucking like a normal person, because all of Hollywood was a joke, even the life style, which Erik didn’t adhere to. “You hate it. I go through your garbage and there’s not one organic thing in the lot.”

“Yeah you’re right.” Erik sighed feeling like a success, and relaxed into the couch, and then motioned to Charles, “Speaking of that, what do you want for dinner? I’m gonna treat my assistant, and it’s been a while since I fed you. I was thinking Thai?” He suggested, but Charles was shaking his head emphatically.

“Nope, you shouldn’t eat it. Remember last time? You spent the whole next day on the toilet.” Charles enlightened him, and he nodded, happy that he’d just dodged that bullet. He always shits himself after eating most ethnic foods…

“You’re right. See once again, you’re invaluable Charles— but wait, I was out of the city, I was…” He trailed off, and then snapped his fingers, “I was in Palm Springs and missed going to the after gala of the Prime time Sun Awards. I barely made it through the show without staining the seat…” Erik admitted thoughtfully.

Charles shrugged with a mischievous grin, as he leaned into Erik, “I always know Erik… always…” He trailed off eerily, and Erik shrugged, guessing that was Charles’ deal as his stalker. Always on the ball, just like a good assistant!

“Hmm well someone’s got to I guess, and I’m happy it’s you. Now what do you want? Your pick…”

 

*bonus*

Erik said looking at his tablet, ready to pull up a menu, and when he looked up, Charles was gone, and— and he was across from the couch and slipping into the closet.

“How about some fish and chips? Just like back home.” He called through the slatted door, and Erik sighed. He was not having dinner with his stalker, while he hid in the closet. He had to draw the line somewhere…

“Charles, assistants don’t eat in the closet. Now get your ass back out here, or you’re fired.”

 

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> Paul Giamatti was chosen as Erik’s manager, because he plays the worst managers ever in two separate music movies. I don’t know why he’d play this kinda character twice, but when he did, his fate was sealed…
> 
> and join me on tumblr if that's your thing. http://candycandybaby.tumblr.com/


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